nine2five 13 Rest in Pieces
by Marc Vun Kannon
Summary: The Ring has Chuck, Sarah's in the hospital, and Carina's in a cell. Casey needs a team, or a miracle, or both. My revision of American Hero. Shaw meets his fate, sort of.
1. Playing Make-Believe

**A/N **Going for a little lighter tone ofter last chapter's fireworks.

* * *

"_We have a new priority."_

"_Take him away."_

"_Your girlfriend here just handed him over to the bad guys!"_

"_If anything happens to him, I _will_ kill you."_

* * *

"Colonel John Casey, reporting as ordered, General."

Diane Beckman looked up at the saluting man. She stood and returned his salute. "Sit down, Colonel. Tell me about last night's little…snafu."

"My written report –"

"Won't wait, Colonel. Shoot from the hip. I'll record your statements and that will have to do for now." She pressed a button on her desk.

"Yes, General. For background, the purpose of last night's operation was to extract Agent Miller from a situation created by the Ring, which was holding one of her known associates, one Morgan Grimes, hostage against her compliance with their wishes."

"Why him?"

"I don't know, General, but I suspect it might have something to do with his status as a recipient of the Costa Gravan Medal of Valor. To continue, Agent Miller was also outfitted with a wire to prevent her openly informing any of us of this situation. She managed to confide in Agent Carmichael and plan a response, but their plan went awry, as we discovered and reported to you earlier, but not in time to reach her. Last night's operation was an…ad hoc attempt to retrieve the situation and Agent Miller.

"The Ring anticipated this plan, and piggybacked their operation on top of ours. Things were further complicated by the unexpected inclusion of Mr. Grimes in Agent Miller's rescue."

"Who included him?"

"I expect she did, having been part of his escort detail on the return from Hawaii and knowing his ability in times of crisis. To continue, they anticipated that his room would be monitored, which it was, and arranged to meet in the secret room."

"As we anticipated."

"Yes, General, as you anticipated. Unfortunately, the Ring also expected it, being aware of the plethora of secret rooms in this city. They suppressed all signals from the house, and sealed the command van with the quick response team inside, leaving our Agent and Mr. Grimes to face their incursion alone. She apparently tried to contact us and failed–"

"How do we know this?"

"The Ring, in an attempt to cause confusion, broadcast what were no doubt highly-edited excerpts of their conversation in the room, in which she says that she tried to contact us."

"That's hardly evidence, Colonel."

"I'm aware of that, General, but the odds that the Ring had prepared forgeries on hand are low. Further, she used Mr. Grimes' phone to contact the only other resource she had available, Charles Carmichael himself, and was recorded saying it to him. The Ring could not have known about her connection to him, so we were prepared to accept the truth of the broadcast to that extent."

"Hmmm. Continue."

"Having been incommunicado for a day, Agent Miller couldn't have been aware of the latest developments with Agent Carmichael, previously reported, but Agent Carmichael went to her aid regardless. The speed with which the Ring team responded to his appearance implies to me that the whole trace-cell mission may have been a set-up. In any event, Carmichael was taken out quickly by a force even he couldn't easily overcome. According to Mr. Grimes, our only eyewitness to these events, Agent Miller attempted to protect Agent Carmichael but was quickly knocked out herself. I suspect the only reason she's still alive is the presence of Mr. Grimes, and the imminent arrival of my team."

"You recovered them?"

"Yes, General. He was brought in for testimony, and she is in protective custody. She has to be officially cleared of the treason charge, and the Ring's ploy of broadcasting those excerpts has made it seem she lied to us and perhaps even participated in the capture of Charles Carmichael. While those of us on scene know better, she has apparently received some threats."

"That can't be allowed to stand. Do we know who issued these threats?"

"I have men looking into it. Agent Carmichael's wife is currently recuperating from injuries sustained extracting herself from the immobilized van."

"Nothing serious, I hope."

"According to our medical team, she suffered some muscle strain, and some small broken bones. A little bed rest and some bone glue, she'll be fine in short order."

"Not good enough. We need to recover Agent Carmichael, and quickly. We may be able to expedite Agent Miller's release but injuries are injuries. Prepare your assault team. We will assign you some temporary members of your command team to locate and plan the retrieval."

"Yes, General. Will that be all?"

"That will be all, Colonel." Beckman turned off the recording as Casey stood. "Sit down, John, I'm not done with you yet."

Casey sat. "The General said that was all."

"The General lied. She does that. I have a question."

"Just one, ma'am?"

"Yes, Colonel," said Beckman. "What really happened?"

"Is the General implying that I lied?"

"The General normally implies that sort of thing with a squad of MPs, John. I am prepared to let your report stand as given for the benefit of certain members of Congress. Fortunately Mr. Grimes' Medal of Valor will stand him in good stead there. However, for my sake, and for the sake of any extraction operation we mount, only the bare truth will do."

"Every word I said was true."

"I'm sure they were, John, but they were also dressed to the nines and paraded down a runway for the paparazzi to gawk at. Give me the dressing room version."

Casey sighed. "Carina got into the attic, found Mr. Pendergast's supply of booze and drank herself into a stupor. Grimes got there and set her off about Sarah, and apparently Chuck is on her sh—uh, enemies list as well. The Ring was listening and recorded a lot of it, including the part where she called Chuck, claimed that there was Ring incursion underway, implied that Sarah and I were possibly captured, and then used some sort of code."

"What was the code?"

"Color words. We don't know what they meant, but she got an immediate reaction from the sound of things. She also outed both Sarah and Chuck as spies to Grimes, and referred to Chuck as Carmichael. The call to Chuck was some sort of ploy to prove her claims to Grimes."

"No wonder Sarah tore the van apart."

"She'd have done the same to Carina if I hadn't gotten her into lockdown. Fortunately berserker rage is very short-lived. Ellie's got her now."

General Beckman stiffened. _Ellie. _"Did you tell her what you just told me?"

Casey shifted in his seat. "Not yet. I felt it best to make my report to–"

Beckman smirked at his discomfort. "Don't worry, John, I'll talk to her." _Just…not in person._

Casey relaxed. "Thank you, General."

"Don't thank me yet, Colonel. You've still got that rescue mission to pull off."

* * *

Ellie looked up as John Casey came through the doorway into her office. "What…?"

"Got something for you, doctor," he muttered, leading a tall man by the arm in to her office. He took the bag off the man's head to reveal Devon's confused face.

Devon looked over to his wife and back again. "What's going on, John? You made it sound like the world was coming to an end. What's the emergency?"

"Patient's through there, Devon," said Casey, pointing. "Ellie, answer your phone. I've got a mission to plan." Casey fled the room.

Devon gave his wife a confused look, but she had no time to give an explanation she didn't have before her phone made the demanding noise she always associated with General Beckman. So she pointed instead, and Devon went off to do his doctor thing as she turned to her phone and activated the screen.

In the recovery room, Devon had done little more than read Sarah's chart and note some of her more obvious vital statistics when he heard a shriek from the office. He barely had time to turn around before his wife came through the door and flung herself into his arms, sobbing. Sarah was injured and Ellie was crying. Totally not awesome. Where was Chuck when he needed him? Then he thought about his own question.

_Oh, no…_

* * *

Daniel Shaw was at his desk, arranging his files and preparing a powerpoint presentation when his phone rang. He already had his headset on. "I was wondering when you'd call me, Colonel."

"You want in?"

"I do. I was in the van with Agent Carmichael." That sense of rage, of…loss. Oh was he ever with her in that van.

"Meet me in Interiors Maintenance in fifteen minutes." Before Shaw could ask 'why there?' the phone went dead.

* * *

When Shaw arrived at IM he had some trouble spotting Casey among all the coveralls, until one of those sets of coveralls turned around. "It's showtime, gentlemen," he said to his companions. "Wish me luck."

"You guys don't hope," said one, shaking his head.

"You plan," said another, and they walked away, laughing.

"NSA?" asked Shaw.

"You didn't figure it out?"

"Hadn't thought about it, really. I know you're good at what you do, I didn't need to know anything else. It explains the outfit, though."

"What's with the bandages?"

Shaw held up his hands. "Somebody had to hold the grill back, so Agent Carmichael could get into the front of the van." It was made of sheet metal.

Casey nodded. "Yeah, you'll do. Come with me." He walked deeper into the bowels of the department, where few ever went who don't belong there. Somewhere the shelves opened out onto an open space, with a bunch of empty chairs and a bearded man sitting on one. "Daniel Shaw, this is Morgan Grimes."

Morgan rose and they shook hands, and then Shaw said, "The hero from Hawaii?"

Morgan paused a bit, like he had a lot to say and was thinking how to say it, but all he finally said was, "No."

Shaw looked curiously at the man who denied what he was famous for, and even more curiously at Casey, who seemed unsurprised at the denial himself, and also pleased.

Casey sat. "Mr. Grimes was the only eyewitness to the events at the B&B, Agent Shaw."

"Agent Miller is–?"

"Agent Miller will not be joining us," said Casey curtly. "As a result of last night's fiasco I have been tasked with creating a response team. You gentlemen are it."

Shaw looked Morgan over critically. "What is Mr. Grimes' position on this team?"

"The nice version is, he's as motivated as Sarah, he's as good with gizmos as you, and he's as big a wildcard as Carina."

Even Morgan looked impressed at this description. "What's the not-nice version?"

Casey rose and poked him in the chest. Morgan fell back into his chair. "You're Charles Carmichael's best friend, you're tired of girls fighting your battles for you, and this whole thing's partly your fault."

"I…think I'll stick with the nice version," said Grimes, rubbing his chest.

"Tell someone who cares."

Shaw ignored the byplay, focusing on the important details. _Charles Carmichael's best friend._ That would be useful, once they got Carmichael back. "Mr. Grimes, I'm going to play you some commentary that the Ring spread to disrupt us during their incursion. I'd like you to listen to it and put the comments in context, if you can, and anything else that happened."

"Sure. Go ahead."

At his own first words Morgan spoke up. "Okay, that wasn't where we started. I got up there and she was hammered already, and she was going on again about being betrayed by her friends. How was I supposed to know that Sarah was the friend she was talking about? Sarah wouldn't betray a friend."

"You got that right."

Shaw restarted the recording. They all listened in silence until Morgan asked, "What does that part even mean, 'an analyst with the interest'? It doesn't even make sense."

Casey shrugged. "It's like you said, she was toasted, you hear how her voice was slurring. Probably doesn't mean anything, but we'll look into it." He made a note, and gestured Shaw to continue. They listened to Morgan's end of Carina's phone call, and his final words, 'Now what?' "What happened after that, Grimes?"

Morgan looked a bit uncomfortable. "Well, it was kind'a cold in that attic, and Carina wasn't dressed too warmly and neither was I so–"

"Cut to the chase, moron!"

"We snuggled together for about half an hour, maybe more, before I heard something outside. Carina said it was Chu-Charles."

Casey shot him a glare at his slip-up. "So the Ring team had plenty of time to make a plan and set up their strike force."

"Well, they were certainly there, Johnny on the spot. He barely got my name out before he keeled over and then all these guys with guns were pointing them at us. They called someone named Leader and he came in and said 'Take him away.'"

"All Ring team leaders are called Leader by their subordinates," said Shaw.

"Well, he was in charge all right. That guy Heinrich really wanted to tear into us both but he didn't when Leader said no."

"Who is Heinrich?"

"He was the guy with the razor, a couple of weeks back they broke into the house and I kicked him in the nuts, really hard."

Both Shaw and Casey had been there, wearing police helmets so Morgan wouldn't recognize them.

"And he was really good with that razor, too! He sliced through just her pocket while she was out on the floor–"

"Carina was out by this time?"

"Yeah, when they were taking Charles away she said she wouldn't let them, and got up to fight them all by herself, starting with Heinrich."

"And?"

"She could barely stand! I wasn't gonna let her get herself killed doing something stupid, so I…hit her… with the empty whiskey bottle." He looked at his feet, embarrassed.

"Smart move," said Casey, and Morgan looked up in surprise.

"Yes, well done," added Shaw. "They would have killed her otherwise."

"That's what Leader said."

"Did this Leader say anything else?"

"He made me carry a message…"

"Which is?" growled Casey.

"'Thank you.' He didn't say who it was for, though."

"Oh, I know who it's for," said Casey. "What else?"

"That's it," said Morgan. "He ignored like I wasn't even there, just…turned around and told his men to be careful with Charles' head."

Casey say forward. "He said what?"

"He said they could bump his body but be careful with his head, 'cause they had plans for that. What does that mean?"

Casey grunted.

* * *

**A/N2 **And the stakes just keep going up, don't they?


	2. Playing Catch-Up

**A/N ...**What?**  
**

* * *

"_Tell me about last night's little…snafu."_

"_Is the General implying that I lied?"_

"_It's showtime, gentlemen."_

"_He said what?"_

* * *

Ellie came through the door, phone to her ear. "Okay, well, that's something I guess. Keep me posted? Thanks."

"What's up, babe?" asked Devon, as she slipped the phone into her pocket.

She sighed. "That was Casey, they're not getting a signal from the tracker, but they're not getting a signal from the screamer either, so I'm trying to look at the silver lining for now."

"What's a screamer?"

"The tracker is powered by Chuck's body, and broadcasts at low power to avoid setting off enemy sensors. If that body stops working, the screamer goes off, and that's something we'd up pick on the dark side of the Moon, from the sound of things."

Devon was a doctor, not a cosmological physicist, and the impossibility passed him by. "That sounds kind of backward to me, babe. Wouldn't you rather find him when he's alive?"

"A screamer goes off when he's alive, he won't _be_ alive much longer."

Devon held up his hands, laughing. "Whoa, you do a mean John Casey impression."

"Yeah? Well, he's right. I know it, and the Ring knows it. They're not going to put Chuck in a position where we can pick up his tracker if they can help it." Ellie turned her attention to something more hopeful, her brother's wife. "How's she doing?"

Devon shrugged. "Exhaustion, mostly. Long day, late night, and a berserker rage will do that to anybody. I administered the bone glue under topical, so she wakes up when she wakes up."

Ellie hugged him gently. "Thanks for taking care of her." _And of me._

Devon was always up for a hug. "Thank John, he's the one who dragged me out of a boring meeting and put a bag over my head. Speaking of which, if you don't need me around I need someone to get me out of here, wherever 'here' is. I've got other patients to see."

She nodded. "I'll call John."

When Casey arrived, he had someone else in tow. The bag came off to reveal Morgan. Casey looked at her apologetically. "I didn't want him wandering around loose."

"I hope you brought a second bag, John," said Devon.

Casey chuckled, and pulled a second bag from his pocket. As Devon put it on, Casey turned to Morgan. "Don't leave this room until I come and get you."  
Morgan nodded. "Right. I am not to leave the room, even if you come and get me."

Casey scowled at him. "_Until_ I come and get you."

Morgan nodded." Right. Until you come and get me, I am not to enter the room."

Casey leaned in close. "There's a broom closet down the hall, numb-nuts."

Morgan raced to sit in a chair. "Right. I'll just wait right here, then, shall I, sir?"

Casey growled, took Devon's arm, and left.

* * *

A good agent takes the initiative, grabs any opportunities that come his way. A great agent recognizes when he's in over his head. "Leader, have arrangements been made to transport Carmichael?"

"Negative, Force Leader. Carmichael will be rendered down locally. We will send transport to our special facility. We will transport him elsewhere after that if it should be necessary." _If there should be anything left to transport._

The Force Leader caught the subtext, immediately turning his mind to the objective and not the consequences. "Acknowledged." He turned to his computer as Leader ended the transmission, to await the packet of dossiers and code phrases the transporters would expect. The package they were coming to transport was the furthest thing from his thoughts.

* * *

Morgan looked up as Ellie came out of the recovery room. "How's she doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Will she be mission-capable when she wakes up?"

"Don't try to talk like Casey, Morgan, it doesn't suit you." She sat at her desk, pretending to work, hoping he'd shut up.

No such luck. "Maybe not the old Morgan, but Casey's giving me a chance to be a new Morgan and I'm taking it. I'm tired of letting other people fight my battles. I let Anna and Carina do that and it's been a disaster both times."

Ellie's pencil snapped between her fingers, and she frowned. "From what I hear, she's probably sleeping it off too." Hung over in a CIA holding cell with only a bloody handprint for company. She found the thought strangely satisfying, like the idea that Morgan might finally be growing up.

Morgan chuckled. "Yeah, she was totally wasted. I'm surprised she could even stand up at the end. They said I did the right thing, hitting her with that bottle."

"Then you did."

"I hope so. She was kind of incoherent there for a while, ranting about Chuck and how pathetic he was, when she couldn't even talk straight. I was afraid I'd make it worse."

Ellie perked up her ears, for two different reasons. "It would depend on where you hit her. Why would she say Chuck was pathetic?" _She should know better than that._

"She didn't, really, just that his skills were surgically implanted, and he was nothing but an analyst with the interest. Like I said, incoherent."

_Oh._ "I have to make a phone call, Morgan. I'll be right outside, so don't touch anything."

* * *

"I really don't think that would be a good idea, Ellie. Look what happened to Sarah. Yes, I know you're not a ninja assassin—yes, I know that you can—look, I'll give it to you when I get there. Fine. I'm on my way back now." Casey tried to look on the bright side. Worst came to worst, Carina was already _in_ a holding cell.

* * *

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"'Is there a problem'? Do you see any way to put that monstrosity under cover, because I do not. You are exposing the package to discovery and possible interception."

"Leader felt otherwise, sir. Your original mission specs did not include a pick-up of this nature. We have to improvise." Ring operatives disliked improvising.

They could have played it safe gone for the flash drive, but that Miller bitch had made hash of his plans, offered a prize too tempting to pass up. The Force Leader liked owning the glory, he didn't want to risk it in any way, which was probably the reason Leader was forcing him to risk it this way. "Fine. Deploy your men, we'll bring him out when the area is secure."

* * *

"What do you mean, we got a hit?" said Casey.

Lensman One (or maybe it was Two, he could never tell them apart) replied, "We've been scanning the entire city for his frequency, sir. No hits, so they must be keeping him insulated, but we got a random ping a few minutes ago."

"Probably a one-in-a-million shot as they had him outdoors before shoving him into a vehicle to take him to some other unknown location. Send the location to Shaw, see what he can make of it."

Morgan bumped into him from behind as he tried to walk while turning. "Wow, this is so cool!"

Casey grabbed him by the arm and swung him around to face the board. "Gentlemen, meet Morgan Grimes. He's a civilian consultant. You can speak freely in front of him, but to be honest you should really be careful what you say anyway."

Morgan took his eyes away from the screen for a second. "Hey, Casey, are you talking about me? I wish you wouldn't do that kind of stuff, it hurts my feelings, man, and besides, it's not like I was the guy who blabbed about the volleyball incident."

Casey rolled his eyes, looked at the agents. "You see my point?" They nodded. "Grimes, these fine gentlemen are Lensmen One and Two, I don't know which is which but I don't know if they do either…"

One of them shrugged. "Depends on who's driving."

"Whatever." He turned back to Morgan. "They're trying to track Chuck down using a special chip in his shoulder. You can stay here and look at the toys if you want, but don't press any of the shiny buttons–"

"The bright, shiny, candy-like buttons…" said Morgan, a verbal leer.

Casey slapped him in the back of his head. "Yeah, those buttons, moron. And don't distract them with sandwiches, desert islands, or your favorite Star Wars episode–"

"Empire," said Two. Or maybe it was One.

"Dude," said Morgan, and they fist-bumped as Casey hung his head.

"Maybe you two can work out a way to detect nerdiness from orbit, that'd find our boy real quick." He glared at One. Or maybe it was Two. "You've got one ping, I suggest you try to do something with it."

"Whoa, whoa, they got a ping? That's incredible."

"That's the best satellite technology money can buy."

"No, Casey, I mean it's in-credible." Morgan shook his hands at the incredible-ness of it. "They finally get their hands on Charles Carmichael, a guy you say they've been after for years, and they stay in DC? Wouldn't you load him onto a bus or a plane and get him the hell out of Dodge? I know_ I_ would. It's breaking one of the rules of the Evil Overlord handbook not to, and according to you these guys don't do that."

The Lensmen shared a wordless glance. "He's got a point, sir. What are they sticking around for?"

"Wait, I know," said Morgan, snapping his fingers. "They said they had plans for his head, maybe they need a head transplant facility, there can't be too many of those, right?"

_Hmmm_. "That's a great idea, Grimes, why don't you stay here and help these gentlemen look into the possibility. I have to go make a call, and then I'll check with Shaw."

"Sure, Casey, see you later." Morgan pulled up a chair as Casey left the room. "So tell me, did they make the video game to look like this, or did they make this to look like the video game…?"

The door cut off the running commentary, and Casey never looked back. He got out his phone. "Ellie…?"

* * *

"I'm pretty sure they know about the Intersect," said Ellie, trembling.

"How could they?" said Casey. "Even Carina didn't blab that much."

Ellie wasn't willing to give her that much credit. "That was her training talking, John. Even drunk, her subconscious mind wasn't letting her say the word 'Intersect', but if you listen for it you know what she's trying to say." She played back the relevant portion of the file Casey'd left her.

"'He'd be nothing but an analyst without the Intersect.' And you think Leader figured this out from her drunken ramblings in the back of a van at four in the morning?"

"'Tony Stark built one in a cave, from a box of scraps.'"

"Don't start talking like Morgan, Ellie. I'm begging you. The only thing that keeps me sane during his ninety-nine percent drivel is the one percent brilliance. Just don't tell him I said that."

"Focus, John. They forced Carina to steal a file of Intersect designs. They've got Chuck and they aren't taking him away, with a use for his head but not the rest of him. Is it really so hard to think that they have an Intersect facility of their own, somewhere nearby?"

"No, not hard, just unpleasant. How do we find it?"

Ellie pressed a button on her desk. "Manoosh."

A few seconds later her office door swung open as her assistant hastened in and—skidded to a halt, paling at the sight of John Casey looking fierce. He backed away, looking for something to put between them.

"Cut it out," snarled the Colonel. "We're all in this together."

"We are? Last time I saw you, you were calling me a traitor. You wanted to crush me under foot."

Casey grunted an acknowledgement. "It's simple, genius. You _tried_ to be a traitor. You _succeeded_ in being an asset. That counts for a lot in my book. Right now the future of this country is riding on your skinny shoulders and Ellie thinks you can pull that load. So I'm asking, can you?"

* * *

Manoosh walked, practically ran, back to his lab, his den, his home away from-well, his home, really. He had his tools and his code, everything he needed to live. Coming around the table, he tapped the keyboard on his computer. _R U there?_

FULL SENTENCES, MANOOSH. I TOLD YOU, WRITE BADLY, THINK BADLY.

_Okay, okay. I got a new assignment, national priority._

EXCELLENT. MY DAUGHTER RESPECTS YOU.

_Even Casey was nice to me. Sort of._

_Orion?_

WHY WAS COLONEL CASEY THERE?

_The Intersect Host has been captured, that's the mission. They need me to find him._

_Orion?_

_Orion?_

* * *

**A/N2 **Oh, boy.


	3. Playing With Fire

**A/N** Play time is over.

* * *

"_I'm trying to look at the silver lining for now."_

"_Wow, this is so cool!"_

"_I'm pretty sure they know about the Intersect."_

"_Ellie thinks you can pull that load."_

* * *

_She was in a van, alone. Chuck was on a mission, and she was his back-up. _

_No, that's not right. _

_Chuck never goes on missions. She has to keep him safe, so that he can keep _her_ safe. How can she keep him safe in a van?_

"_Chuck is the greatest spy the world has ever known," said the radio. It sounded like Carina._

NO!_ Chuck isn't a spy!_

"_He has to be worthy of Sarah Walker," said the radio. It sounded like Charles._

_Shut up! It's Sarah Walker who's unworthy._

"_Sarah Walker is the most natural spy in the world," said the radio, sounding like Carina again._

_She grabbed it off the rack and smashed it against the floor. Shut up shut up _SHUT UP!_ The van started rocking wildly. _

"_We need Charles Carmichael!" screamed the radio._

I need Chuck Bartowski!_ She went to the door but it didn't move. She kicked at it, hurting her foot. _OPEN!

_The door slid open. Yes! It slid shut in her face. "Ah, ah, ah," said the radio, "No outside for you!"_

_She kicked at the door again, and it crumpled inward. _

"_Someone needs a smaller box!" yelled the radio. The other wall buckled inward._

_Light came from behind her, and she turned. Through the grill she could see the driver section. Chuck was pounding on the windshield. _Chuck!_ He waved, smiling that goofy, megawatt grin she loved so much, and–some men grabbed him and pulled him away from the van._

"_There's Ring agents everywhere!" shouted the radio, as the back door caved inward._

_Chuck looked at her, holding his arms out, saying something she couldn't hear. She pulled on the grill. She had to get to the driver's seat, had to save–the ceiling came down, cutting off the light._

Sarah woke to darkness, already sitting up. "Chuuuck!"

Something made a loud noise outside, and a large body hurtled through the doors of the room, bringing light in its–her–wake. "Sarah!" said Ellie, turning on the lights. The doctor noted the machines and their squiggly lines. The woman noted her patient's face, and squelched her doctorly impulses under an iron heel, running to the bed to enfold her husband's wife in a big sisterly hug. "Sweetie, I was beginning to worry."

Sarah pushed Ellie back to look in her face. "Chuck?"

"No, not yet. Casey put together a team…"

Of course he did. "Carina?"

Ellie shook her head. "Still in her box."

"Good." Sarah started to move, to get out of bed. She gasped in pain as she discovered what she'd done to herself, flexed her hand, her fingers still stiff from the swelling around the broken bones. "I screwed up, Ellie," she said, hobbling toward the door.

Ellie put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "Sweetie, no…"

Sarah turned. "I got out of the van and the only thing I did was go after Carina and I let them get away with him–"

Ellie stroked Sarah's hair gently. "Sarah, they were ten minutes gone by the time you got out of the van, there was nothing you could have done. You went after Carina because you knew that."

Sarah looked at the floor. "I should have reacted like a spy…"

"Reacting like a spy did not get you out of that van, Sarah," said Ellie firmly, pushing Sarah's face back up with a finger under the chin. "You tore your way out of there because you are a woman in love. Sarah Bartowski did what Sarah Walker would never have tried to do."

Sarah took Ellie's hand. "I went too far. I chased my teammate and best friend into a jail cell and almost killed her anyway."

Ellie snorted. "I heard the recording. She had it coming, but she would have been only the beginning. Listen to me. You want your husband back, you go through anyone and everyone you need to go through to get him back. There is no such thing as too far. It is your job and your duty to go as far as you need to go, and mine too." She escorted Sarah slowly to the door. "Manoosh and I are part of the team, we're going to help you find the bastards who took my brother so you can do what you do best. I'll cheer you on as you go, but…I should warn you, I'll be patching them up after you're done."

Sarah smiled as the doors opened before her. "You know what, that actually makes it easier. In the old days I would have left a trail of bodies behind me and not looked back, but then Chuck…I care more, now. It hurts." She looked at Ellie gratefully. "Knowing you're back there, it'll hurt less."

Ellie smiled back. "Good. I'm glad it hurts, it means your soul is alive. It's supposed to hurt. Let it worry you, let it bother you, don't let it stop you. Look at Chuck."

"What?"

"All those years, the lies he had to tell and the promises he had to break. He hurt me, he wounded me, and he worried about it and it hurt him but he did what he had to do. And so will you." Ellie fixed a fierce stare at Sarah. "You're a Bartowski now, Sarah, and that's what Bartowskis do. Keep on acting like one."

* * *

_He walked the streets, alone. He didn't look at the signs, they were all written in some language he didn't understand, the language of the City of Love. Out of habit he looked around as he walked, admiring the architecture, constantly checking the windows that had a line of sight on his position, a line of sight on–_

_He was going somewhere, his walking wasn't aimless. He had a goal, a destination, a purpose. He wondered what it was._

_His foot kicked something, a slate, a tile fallen from somewhere, sent skittering across the pavement. He bent to pick it up. It had an odd shape, pointed on one end, round on the other, flat on one side, curved on the other. He looked around for a corresponding–There! A sign, with a matching mirror-image to the fragment he held in his hand, the other half of a heart._

_It pulsed in his hand. The world echoed with the sound. Lub._

_He heard an answering pulse, a beat to match the one in his hand. Dub._

_His heart pulled him like a dowsing rod, and he knew where he was headed. The faster it beat the faster he walked, the closer he got the faster it beat._

_He was sprinting toward the corner when he heard it, the small, sharp explosion, directed death._

_He was sprinting toward the corner when he didn't hear it. His heart pulsed once and stopped, waiting for an answer that didn't come._

_Around the corner it was dark, shadowing the body, hiding the blood that he knew had to be there. The body held a half-heart too, with a bullet hole in it. He touched his to hers, and they both crumbled together, dust to dust._

Daniel Shaw rejected sleep, opened his eyes, sat up straight.

"Well, at least you wake up quick, I'll give you that," said Casey.

"My apologies, Colonel, for dozing off like that."

Casey waved it away. "Forget it. The way I see it you haven't had any rest in–"

Five years.

"–thirty-six hours at least. You're due a little shut-eye. You're our eyes and ears, we need you sharp."

Yes. Have to stay sharp. Have to stay focused. Have to find Carmichael. _Who killed my wife? _"I analyzed the ping the other agents picked up."

"All business, eh?" said Casey. "Good, I like that." He sat as Shaw popped open his laptop.

"The most notable thing about it, of course, is that it happened at all. Mr. Grimes is completely correct, a capture of this magnitude should have been immediately removed from the playing field, yet it was not. The ping originated in a residential neighborhood, so the safehouse probably _was_ a house, and the transport was likely just too large to fit under cover. This tells me that Carmichael's capture was a target of opportunity." _Who gave the order?_

"It tells me that whatever they have planned for him, they biggest and most important part of it is happening here. They need facilities that don't exist anywhere else." Otherwise they'd be long gone.

"Leader took the fewest chances possible with the prize, trading the possibility that we'd get a random signal against the deployment of a larger security team. They will not be taking him far, though. If you have any additionl information, Colonel, you need to share it with me. I can't analyze what I don't have."

"Not my call, Shaw. God doesn't have that kind of clearance, and I wish I didn't either. I've got a team putting together some specs, I'll share what I can when I get them."

Shaw shrugged. "Useful generalities will have to do, then. There are a number of suspect sites within the most likely radius from where the ping originated. Do we know where that is?"

Casey grunted. "We know where it was. The whole place burned to the ground, we saw it on satellite. They torched it on the possibility we'd get something."

"That's the Ring. No time for a cleaning crew. I should have seen this coming and warned you."

"You're kidding, right?" Casey looked at Shaw's still face and realized that no, he wasn't kidding. "Look, Shaw, there's only one analyst who can be held to that kind of standard, and that's the man we're trying to save. I should tell you some time about the multi-agency, multi-team freighter incursion he orchestrated."

Sounded like a nightmare just in the planning stages. "A good operation?"

"A thing of beauty. The only blood shed on our side was his own, and he was in the van."

"What happened?"

"Nose bleed. What can you tell me about these suspect sites?"

* * *

"I forwarded you his email. From what he told me, it sounds like our target will be underground, heavily shielded in all the conventional ways. I'm hoping that anything having to do with the Intersect will be unconventional in some way they haven't noticed yet."

Ellie looked up at Sarah while addressing the phone. "That's a good hope, John, but you have to narrow it down a bit more. Manoosh is putting together some sensors, but if this place is underground you're going to have to be practically on top of it to get a hit."

"Yeah, well, Shaw got paranoid after the whole house fire thing. He doubled his radius for any waste outlets, we got a few places to start with."

Sarah leaned closer to the speaker. "How do you know it's not legitimate waste?"

"They were in warehouse districts. We had the power shut off for a while and noticed no change in activity. You get us those sensors, we'll find you the building."

* * *

The transport chief stepped into the circle of light unhappily. "I have completed my assignment, Leader, Agent Carmichael is secured on site."

"We are aware of that," said Leader. "Just as we are aware that two of the members of your team are currently in Medical, being treated for injuries."

The Chief started to sweat, in spite of the cool air. "There was an altercation with Agent Carmichael in transit."

"You said he was unconscious. And restrained."

"He was, Leader. He still is."

"You're saying that two of your operatives were disabled by an unconscious prisoner?"

"He broke free of the cuff, Leader…"

"While unconscious?"

"Yes. The first we knew of it was when he reached up and grabbed Agent 42's head and broke his nose on the gurney. Agent 35's arm was broken when he went to help 42. After that we secured Carmichael's arm with extra restraints."

"With two men holding it down."

"Yes, Leader." The chief watched as a hand came down, and the shadowy figures decided his fate in silence.

"Beaten by a restrained, unconscious man? That's preposterous!"

"No, Four," said one of the others. "That's the Intersect."

"Yes, Leader Five," said Leader. "You have always vouched for its abilities, and you were correct to do so. We will continue with your phase of the plan. I hope we are prepared to take proper advantage of this windfall."

Five smirked at the others. "We are, Leader."

"What about him?"

Leader touched the button. "Chief, you have survived an encounter with Charles Carmichael, you are to be congratulated. You may go about your duties."

They all ignored the sweating man as he all but fled the room."You let him live after that?"

"Yes, he was incompetent, but to kill him now would endanger the plan. When the time comes, he'll be on the front lines." Leader stood. "I am going to see Carmichael."

After Leader left the room, Three held out a bill, and Two took it. "Sucker."

* * *

Charles Carmichael woke quickly, as he did everything, to find himself in a ten-point restraint system, wondering at the overkill. The tranq-induced hangover was expected, but his arm was sore, which was not. He was cold.

Someone entered the room, and Carmichael waited, listening. "I know you're awake," said whoever it was, "The machines don't lie." The table tilted up, and Carmichael slid down as much as his restraints would allow.

Charles opened his eyes, looked at the man, instantly dismissing him as an underling. Talking to him would be useless.

Someone walked into the room, completely covered, its identity utterly hidden by a cloak and a mask, probably the only comfortable person in the room. "Charles Carmichael, we meet at last." The voice was heavily disguised, a computer's voice.

"The last person who said that to me was my wife," said Charles. "I expect you'll be meeting her soon."

"All in good time." Leader waited.

Charles was content to wait, but the silence didn't have any useful intel in it. "Well, get on with it."

"With what?" said Leader.

"The inevitable monolog. Or are you of the 'bore me to death' school of torture?"

"Considering what you face now, if we do get around to torturing you, you will consider it a blessing."

_If? _"You expect me to die?"

"No, Mr. Carmichael, although you may not…live, exactly."

_Not at all relevant. _Keep him talking, help is on the way. "That seems wasteful."

"Priorities, Agent Carmichael. You're far more valuable to us as the Intersect Host."

Excellent, they were after a red herring. Now all he had to do was make sure they stayed on that path. "You can't force me to flash. There's no information you can get from me."

"We aren't after information, Agent Carmichael." The underling appeared in the doorway, nodded once. Leader gestured imperatively, and several men entered the room.

"Then what _are_ you after?" asked Charles, as they set about readying his table for transport.

Leader approached as he lay flat, helpless. "We are after the Intersect itself, Mr. Carmichael. You have tamed it for us, and now we are going to…pick your brains."

* * *

**A/N2 **_Mwah-ha-ha!_ Come on, somebody had to say it.


	4. Playing Dead

**A/N **This story is turning into something of an ensemble piece. Chuck has that effect on people.

* * *

"_No outside for you!"_

"_Don't let it stop you."_

"_You get us those sensors, we'll find you the building."_

"_Now we are going to…pick your brains."_

* * *

YOU GAVE THEM THE LIST?

"The physical stuff? Yeah."

GOOD. THAT SHOULD HELP THEM NARROW IT DOWN A BIT.

"I heard they were already down to three."

GOOD. ARE YOU DONE?

"Yes." Manoosh put down his soldering iron. "Ready to test."

I'LL LIGHT UP ONE PANEL.

That wasn't the way the Intersect Room was supposed to work. "You can do that?"

The meter on the cobbled together sensor jumped.

THE ONLY PERSON IN THAT ROOM MORE THAN ME IS CHUCK.

Manoosh smiled as the signal zeroed. One panel, even next door, should be nothing compared to a room full of them, no matter how deep they buried it. "Let's get started on the second."

"YOU DO THAT ONE. I HAVE OTHER THINGS I NEED TO DO.

* * *

"Gentlemen, Agent Carmichael, we've narrowed the number of possible sites down to three," said Agent Shaw. "Given standard Ring practices, this is the minimum number I would expect."

"Meaning what?" asked Casey.

"All major Ring operations must be mutually supporting. Every project has to plug into at least two other projects."

"So they'll have two other projects beyond this one?" Sarah sent Casey a troubled look.

"Yes, but not to the same extent as the main one, which is where they'll take Agent Carmichael."

Casey nodded, and uncovered a tray with three cobbled-together Home Science Fair rejects on it. "Our tech resource made three sensors, we'll split into three teams, the Lensmen, Agent Carmichael, and me."

"I should come, Agent Carmichael is injured," said Shaw.

Casey grunted a negative. "We need you here, in case we're wrong and none of this pans out."

"In that case Charles Carmichael is already–" he noticed Sarah stiffen "-lost to us."

"Fine, you go with Sarah, then." Casey sighed in resignation. "Grimes, you're with me. Tech questions on the sensors, our guy is standing by. Channel three has been cleared for our use. Any questions?"

* * *

"What exactly are you planning on doing to me, anyway?"

Charles Carmichael did his best to observe what they were doing to and around him, in the little room that looked nothing at all like an Intersect room. It was his duty, as a spy, to have some actionable intel in case he should survive to report it. So far all he knew was that the table had a long slot-like hole down the middle of it, and the lights were very bright. The clamp around his neck limited the range of motion of his head, though, and when they strapped his forehead down he had none at all.

"What, the clamp isn't enough?"

The man who removed the clamp made an imperative gesture, and an underling strapped Charles' head to the table a second time, between his teeth. The overling smirked at his captive's unwilling silence. "Inform Leader that we are ready."

A screen lit up, outside Charles' range of vision. "I am well aware of your state of readiness," said their Leader, in a cold, robotic voice.

If the man was surprised that he'd been under observation it didn't show. "Of course you are, Leader–" a second screen lit "-Five, and Leader," continued the head man smoothly. "You honor us."

"You bore me," said Leader's voice, different somehow from Five's. "Is he ready? Your notes indicated the table was to be inverted."

"We are ready to begin the preparations, Leader," said the scientist in charge, pleased that Leader had read his papers. "Leader Five desired to witness the whole of the procedure."

"Continue.'

At a gesture, the table flipped over, and Charles was staring at the floor as somebody, most likely not the head man, sliced through his shirt, pulling the rags from him. Something cold and metal was laid along his back, on either side of his spine.

"What are you doing?" said Leader's voice behind him.

"We are inserting earplugs," said the scientist, also behind him. "This part of the procedure will be very painful as we insert the sensors into his spine, and we don't dare get distracted once we begin. This is delicate work."

"Under computer control," said Five. "Take them out."

"Do we have a second test subject no one has told me about, Leader Five?"

Leader somehow made even a computer voice sound amused. "Your point is well taken. Continue."

"Ready the pneumatic injectors," said the scientist, and something Charles couldn't see hissed ominously. "We begin."

* * *

Shaw held Sarah back until everyone else had left for their assigned targets. "You shouldn't be going on this mission, and you know it."

She bristled. "You think I should just sit back and let someone else bring my husband home to me?"

"Yes, I do," he replied, unaffected. "You're wounded, in body and soul. No one knows that better than I do."

Suddenly she saw herself in him, five years down the road in a world without Chuck. The very stuff of horror, terrifying and repulsive at the same time. He hadn't survived his wife after all, just…continued.

The image only stiffened her resolve. "Get out of my way, Shaw," said Sarah, pushing him to one side. She realized her mistake as she felt the prick of the needle. He caught her as she collapsed. "Wh—what…?" She couldn't finish the sentence, she had no strength.

"If you'd been thinking clearly you never would have done that." He lifted her up and laid her down on a cot in the room next door. "It's only temporary, it'll wear off soon. I'll bring him back to you, I swear it on Eve's grave."

"…why…?"

"Don't worry," said Shaw, as he left her behind._ I need him too._

* * *

"Interesting," said Leader Five.

"Very," said Leader. "I thought you said the process would be painful."

The scientist removed his ear plugs. "It should have been, sir. We expected it based on observations of our experimental animals, as well as numerous spinal procedures conducted on humans."

They rotated the table, bringing the victim's slack face into view. They removed the strap from between his teeth. The doctor peeled back an eyelid, shining a light into the eye. The pupil constricted but otherwise the eye didn't move.

"Is this an Intersect skill?"

"Going into a vegetative state at will would be a useful ability for an agent in the field."

Suddenly the victim's eyes sprang open, and he gasped, choking on his own spit. "What the hell just happened to me?" shrieked Chuck, straining against the restraints Charles Carmichael couldn't escape from.

"We just inserted several hundred microfiber sensors into your spinal column simultaneously, Agent Carmichael," said Leader. "You seem to have missed it."

"What? Who-?" Chuck stared at the screen. "I really hope you're auditioning for the new Star Wars movie."

"Interesting choice of last words."

"Last words?" Chuck was freaking out, hyperventilating. "What do you mean, last words?"

"We're about to copy the Intersect out of your brain, Agent Carmichael. The process hasn't been beta-tested, I'm afraid."

"My brain? You can't copy my brain, I'm using it!"

"Thus, 'last words.'" Leader dismissed Chuck from his attention. "Continue with the operation."

"Shut him down," said Leader Five. "Shut him all the way down."

The doctor brought up something that looked an awful lot like a gun with a needle on it. Chuck shut his eyes so he wouldn't see it, but that didn't help when it pressed against the back of his neck.

"You may fire when ready."

Chuck's eyes widened and he screamed his last word: _"Sarah!"_

* * *

Sarah Bartowski threw herself off the cot, her gross motor skills returning as Agent Shaw had promised. Too slowly, far too slowly. Could barely stand, barely walk. Couldn't run, couldn't drive, couldn't race to her husband's side or slaughter Daniel Shaw or any of the things she no longer had time to do. All she wanted was the rest of time by Chuck's side, was that too much to ask?

She was done asking.

Her hand fumbled with the door, trying to open it, and she tried to summon some rage, some fire, but rage was a thing of the body and her body wasn't working right now. All she had was her will, her need for her husband coupled with inflexible purpose. She knew what she had to do and she did it.

The door gave way before her.

Her bag pulled her sideways but by bracing herself against the wall she could stagger down the corridor. The heavy security door opened itself at her touch, and she had only to wait, braced against the panel, until the electrons in the wires caught up with her desperate need.

Carina rose to her feet as Sarah lurched into view. "What the hell happened to you?"

Sarah slapped at the lock and it opened. Casey couldn't lock everyone out forever, in case of emergency. This counted. She held out her bag and toppled into Carina's arms. "You. Drive."

"Where?"

"Shaw."

* * *

Shaw's Tesla spun into the parking lot of his designated target building precisely on schedule. Channel three was on speaker, allowing him to listen to his comrades as they performed their own searches.

"This is unit one," said one of the Lensmen. They'd gotten to their target first and had claimed the designation. "Our sensor shows no readings at all. Is it supposed to do that?"

A voice Shaw didn't recognize answered, "Yes. The emissions we're tracking are very specific. Even if there is a facility beneath you, if it doesn't have this equipment it won't show up."

"I'm getting a reading of zero point two," said Casey. "Is this our lab?"

"It's _a_ lab," said the tech guy. "I don't want to commit until we hear from your other team."

"This is Shaw. I flipped the switch and turned the dial, but the light didn't come on. I don't think I'm active."

"No, you turn the dial, then flip the switch."

"Oh." Shaw reversed his actions, then proceeded as instructed. "I'm getting a one point two reading."

"They're in business!"

The Ring. Carmichael. And if he was right, the Leader himself. All right here. "I'm not waiting, gentlemen." He got out of the car, gun in hand.

"Shaw, wait for backup!" No response. "Shaw!" Casey burned rubber getting his Crown Vic to move as fast as he wanted it to. "Dammit! And here I thought he'd be good for holding _Sarah_ back."

"Uh, Casey," said Morgan, holding on to his seat for dear life, "I didn't hear 'we', I heard 'I'."

* * *

"Channel…three," muttered Sarah, her fingers still too numb to do what she needed them to do.

Carina took the phone and pressed the right button.

Morgan's voice erupted from the tiny speaker. "-rah? Are you there? Agent Carmichael, do you copy?"

"This is Agent Carmichael."

"Thank God. Where are you?"

"Shaw drugged me. I'm going after him in my Porsche."

"You're driving your Porsche drugged?"

"No, Carina's driving."

"You're letting Carina drive your Porsche? You _must_ be drugged—Hey!" Suddenly Morgan turned into Casey. "Sarah, Shaw's at the target site. We're all on the way but you're closest."

"Got it, Casey." She looked at the dial, showing ninety but it felt like thirty. "Why aren't we going faster?"

"You didn't ask," said Carina, pressing her foot down.

* * *

Shaw approached the soda machine with some degree of contempt. Such an antiquated system. He pressed the buttons in the right sequence, bracing himself as the elevator dropped.

At the bottom, automatic weapons fire shattered the front of the machine, then stopped when the shooters saw no target. Shaw jumped from the top of the machine, shooting at the guards as he dropped. Two down, and now he had a machine gun.

_You killed my wife._

He pulled out his phone, activated the tracking app. Here inside the base, he should be able to find Carmichael easily.

* * *

"General, is it possible we can take out the building with an air strike?"

"Inside city limits? Are you out of your mind?"

"But Shaw's alone."

"Shaw was the best, once. We'll just have to pray that he still is."

* * *

Down three levels, and Daniel Shaw was beginning to get tired. Must have been the blood loss. Another junction. He felt inside his jacket for another flash-bang, found one left, and a bunch of empty rings on his vest. He threw it high, bouncing it off the walls above what they were going to be looking at. He slid up to the corner, expending this gun's last bullets without aiming as the grenade went off. He looked around the corner at ground level.

Civilians. Scientists. What were they still doing here, didn't they hear the alarms?

He ran up to the writhing figures. One guard. He took the gun and killed the bearer. Then he looked at the rest. Earplugs?

Whatever. According to the app, Charles Carmichael was…through that door!

The lab complex was abandoned, furniture overturned as the occupants scrambled to get out. Shaw ran from room to room, following the power lines and other signs of increasing electronic activity to—Good God.

Chuck hung suspended from a table, unconscious. Blood dripped from his sides to pool on the floor.

Chuck? Chuck…Carmichael. Not traumatized, not a savant. Agent Carmichael's husband, inside a cover, inside a cover. _Well played._

Light shimmered. "Agent Shaw, so glad you could join us."

Shaw fired a burst at the cloaked figure-_ You gave the order-_but it didn't fall.

"You don't really think I'd be anyplace likely to be attacked by you, do you?"

"It was worth a shot."

"You took several, in fact."

"Why are you here?" Shaw turned to the machine pressed up against Chuck's exposed back, looking for a way to get him off it, or it off him.

"I want to thank you, Daniel."

Air hoses? "For what?"

"In your noble and highly predictable attempt to save Charles Carmichael, all you've really accomplished is the delivery of yourself into my hands."

Shaw pulled off a hose, raised a brow at the hiss of air. "Your holographic hands."

Leader shrugged. "It's a metaphor."

"What do you need with me? Carmichael is worth ten of me." He looked for the main air feed.

"I don't really need Carmichael, I just need what makes Carmichael special, and I have that. For the next phase we need a test subject. And here you are."

He sliced the tubes, and the machine let go of Chuck's back. "Help the people who killed my wife? I'd rather die."

"I'm sure you would, Daniel, either during or after your vengeance. This is neither."

"Carmichael will avenge us both."

"You have to save him first."

Shaw fired three shots, one for each projector in the holographic display, and Leader vanished. "I'll do that."

* * *

Leader stepped back, quite satisfied, and turned to a minion. "Let me know when he reaches the top level."

"Yes, Leader."

* * *

Daniel Shaw worked quickly, freeing Chuck from the restraints, wrapping his back so he didn't bleed out. After a quick reconnaissance, he found the self-destruct, but it had no timer. He went back to Chuck, and lifted him into a fireman's carry, for the long trek back to the top level, and the elevator.

* * *

The Porsche pulled into the lot, slamming to a stop next to Shaw's Tesla. Carina shut off the engine and handed Sarah the keys. Sarah got out and ran to the door, as Casey's Crown Vic turned into the lot behind her.

* * *

Shaw almost dropped Chuck's limp form onto the elevator platform. Once freed of his burden, he staggered back down the hall, towards the security station where the self-destruct would be. This one had a timer, and Daniel Shaw pressed the activation button. Nothing happened.

"They're all dummies, except for the one you found down below," said Leader, shimmering into the air next to him. "The only safe place to put one, where you're at the bottom of a well."

Shaw smiled his plastic smile. "Well played."

"My men are on their way, Daniel. Surrender quietly and they'll even let you press the button on the way out, if you like."

"And Carmichael?"

"What of him? We had to shut his brain down to make our copy, and you invaded and killed our surgical team before they could start it back up again. Too bad."

Daniel Shaw sat at the security station and logged on.

"What are you doing?"

Shaw ignored the question.

"You can't send a message out of here on that computer, Daniel. Nothing goes outside this facility."

"I know," said Shaw. "But everything goes inside it. Have you ever heard of Remote Desktop?" He clicked the mouse once, then ran through Leader's holographic body for the elevator.

* * *

Three levels below, the CD tray ejected from the side of a laptop, carefully placed on a high shelf. Next to the laptop, balanced precariously on the edge of the shelf, was a glass paperweight. On the table below the shelf was the self-destruct button, the only one that worked.

With no timer.

* * *

Shaw was on the platform when the first charges blew, vaporizing the team sent to collect him. He was entering the code when the second level charges blew. The elevator had risen into the shaft when the third level charges blew, the expanding gasses of the explosion sending the platform up like a bullet in a very large barrel, smashing Shaw's body to the ground.

* * *

The ground shook slightly, not enough to knock anyone from their feet, but Sarah fell to her knees anyway. They watched as the dust rose before them.

* * *

Shaw struggled to get Chuck's body up, his knee in flaming agony from the impact with the floor, his shoulder weak from the one round that hit him down below. He looked, watching the square of light grow.

_Now!_

Shaw jumped as the platform cleared the shaft, adding yet more to his list of pains as their two bodies rolled across the trembling floor.

Morgan was all for racing to their assistance, but Casey held him back. "No, you idiot, look at the floor! The whole thing could cave in any second."

Shaw knew this, heaved himself to his feet, and…his knee didn't quite work. He couldn't run, could barely stand, but he forced himself forward in a strange, agonized hop. Five feet. Ten feet.

He felt it, they saw it, as the floor began to give way. Shaw fell to his knees, throwing Chuck over the remaining distance with the last of his strength, all Chuck's friends scrambling to grab hold. _Please—_

* * *

Casey grabbed the body, Morgan caught a leg, Sarah cradled his head as they all fell to the ground under the force of the impact. They looked up, to find themselves kneeling on the edge of a pit.

* * *

**A/N2 **I seem to have combined American Hero with Other Guy, after a fashion. I'll have to see what I can do about that.


End file.
